Haven, Again
by sixnumbers
Summary: Lavellan finds herself at Haven again, months after Corypheus' defeat, as if it had never been destroyed.


She remembers this place. The sun is bright and warm, snow falling gently onto the ground but not quite sticking. The wind blew through her hair and made her robe flutter. Haven, but no one's here. And no one should be.

And then it all comes together.

"Solas?"

No one responds.

She runs down the path from the Chantry, up the steps to the house she could always find him by.

"Solas? You have to be here."

She knocks on the door but there's no response. No one's inside, if she's seeing right. What sort of cruel trick was her mind playing on her?

She walks down the dirt path, past Varric's fire, long past out. Down the steps again, out of the wooden gates.

"You've already hurt me once," she says, furious instead of distraught.

It hurts, more than it should. The pain seemed to just be healing. But Solas' touch, his kiss, his comfort. It all was too close to her heart. And she had been hoarding it, every scrap of it. At some point she would move on, maybe gleefully so. But that point wasn't now.

She had been in love before, but it was different. There was no clear way to explain how. As Inquisitor, she pushed the thought aside. Buried it deep in her soul, to be forgotten. And then _he_ had to dig it up, revive it from the decay of neglect. She let him. And with one sentence, she regretted it ever getting so far.

She slumps more, finally sitting down where the soldiers used to practice. It's too close to the edge, but it didn't matter. The ground is cold, but not unbearably so.

The snow crunches with gentle footsteps, and she turns around to find just who she was looking for. He is just as she remembers him, and he smiles warmly down at her. A smile dances across her face, twinged with hurt.

Solas sits next to her, and she hesitates to touch him. She takes a deep breath. "Why did you leave?"

"It is a long tale."

"We have time."

"I cannot, ma vhenan. If I could, I would tell you all of it."

"Do you think I wouldn't understand?"

"No. I know you would. I see that, I always have."

She purses her lips together, looking away again. The pain is too dull to make her cry. Like a tidal wave, it had hit her and washed away just as quickly.

Solas reaches out, taking a hand in his. It is a small warmth and comfort to her, and makes her skin tingle. She closes her eyes and sighs, exhausted.

"I had to see you. And this was the place I thought it best to."

"Is The Fade the only place I can see you?" she mutters. She chuckles, but it's low and bitter.

His face remains serious. "I cannot be with you in any other sense."

"You act as if you had been a spirit this whole time."

Solas unsettles slightly at the usage of 'spirit'.

"Is that what you've always been, Solas? That's why—with the demon—I-"

"No. Not quite," he reasserts. "You worry about things you cannot change now." He's right, in that aspect. "I love you." And it stings again, like washing a wound. "But I am not the love you seek."

"What should I be seeking?"

"Someone who can do more than visit you while you dream."

She bristles. "Why are you speaking like you are leaving?"

"I am. I mean precisely what I say. This will be my last time seeing you, ma vhenan."

Her hand tightens over his. She knew it, deep in her heart, but it didn't make it hurt less.

"Then—I have one request."

He smiles, the warm smile she missed, and he turns over her hand, stroking over her palm with his thumb. "Of course."

"Kiss me. One last time."

With a soft look, Solas pulled her close, and they shared a deep kiss. It is how she remembered him: his taste, his scent, the feel of his clothes under her hands. She slips her hands under his collar to meet the smooth skin on his neck. Solas' heart beats madly, skin pleasantly warming her fingers. Regardless of how long they really kiss, it is still too short when they break apart.

"What can I know about you? You've made things so complicated."

"I—"

"Tell me."

"The world outside of here—it is beautiful. And you are beautiful in it. You should not be so tethered to me. I had hoped my leaving, our parting-"

"But I am tethered to you. Especially with-", she motions her hands at the dreamscape he's constructed, "this. It's too late for that." Her gaze was suddenly powerful, defiant. "Corypheus is dead. We are recovering. If you want closure, forever, then why will you not tell me?"

Solas looks down, hesitant to speak. "You have a point." He looks down, and smiles for just a moment. "Then listen carefully," he states calmly.

. . . . . . . . .

The darkness of the very early morning was always unsettling to wake to, and she found herself in a cold, sticky sweat. He had told her the truth. But her cheeks are still damp with tears, and she sighs.


End file.
